


Bucky Barnes and the Terrible Horrible No Good... Oops that Stealing But You Get It

by Kellyscams



Series: Kells' Fic Fest [33]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Days, Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Grumpy Bucky Barnes, Love, M/M, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Napping, Sleepy Cuddles, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-24 09:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyscams/pseuds/Kellyscams
Summary: Bucky's had a bad day. A really terrible horrible day and he doesn't wanna talk about it and he's set on hating the world forever and never being happy again. Until his husband comes home. And then everything changes.





	Bucky Barnes and the Terrible Horrible No Good... Oops that Stealing But You Get It

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: For the fic fest! Some fluffy, sleepy cuddles for Steve and bucky!! With cute grumpy Bucky. Peas and thank you

Bucky slams the freezer closed, personally offended by the lack of his favorite ice cream. This appliance should be stocked full of it at all times and everyone who lives here knows it. All two of them. Of course, when the freezer door slams, all the mail on top of it falls and the refridgerator did that on purpose, Bucky knows it. 

He grumbles as he bends down to pick everything back up. Not bothering to reorganize any of it, Bucky just tosses all the envelopes onto the kitchen table. That’ll teach the fridge a lesson. Now it can’t have the letters back. 

Still in his work clothes, Bucky goes into the bedroom to change. Tie always goes first. Today it just gets flung somewhere in the corner, he doesn’t care where. If Bucky could get away with it, he wouldn’t bother with the buttons of his shirt, he’d just rip it off. He forces himself to take it one button at a time. Finally, he gets his belt and pants off, and when he’s stripped down to just a t-shirt and boxers he collapses face first onto the bed. 

This is not where he intends to stay, but he needs to just lie here contemplating all the decisions he’s ever made in his life. His legs are dangling off the bed halfway and his head doesn’t reach the pillows. There’s a draft coming in from the window that’s cracked open, but Bucky doesn’t move to get under the covers. He just stays here. Grumbling. Pouting. Sulking. 

While he only meant to stay here for a few minutes and then get up to change into some sweats and a clean t-shirt so he could then toss a blanket over his head and go to the living room to grumble, pout, and sulk in there, he never actually gets to that part. He stays in there so long, his husband gets home and Steve always gets home almost forty-five minutes after him. 

“I’m home!” Steve calls out. Cheerfully. God why does that asshole have to always be so optimistic. “Babe? You here?”

“I’m in here,” Bucky mumbles with his cheek still pressed up against the mattress. 

“Bucky?”

“Here!”

This time, Bucky shouts it and lifts his head up to do so. There’s probably an edge to his voice, too. One that Steve hardly deserves, but it’s still there.

“Oh, hey.” Steve chuckles when he comes into the room. “What’re you doing?”

“Contemplating everything I’ve ever done.”

“Cool. Sounds fun. Mind if I join you?”

“Yes.”

But Steve sits down on the bed in an empty space next to him anyway as if Bucky hasn’t said a grumpy thing at all. He even pushes some hair away from his forehead and places the back of his hand on his brow. 

“You feelin’ okay?”

“M’fine,” Bucky grumbles. “Go away.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

Bucky huffs and, with Steve’s hand still keeping his hair out of the way for him, flicks his eyes up.

“ _Why_?”

“Because five years ago I was at this church and there was this priest and he asked me if I was gonna love you and honor you in good times and bad and in sickness and in health for all the days of my life, and in front of all our friends and family I said yes. I made a vow and by definition a vow is a solemn promise. So.” Steve runs fingers through Bucky’s hair now. “Like I said. I can’t leave.”

“I hate you.”

Bucky’s voice cracks and he so did not want Steve to get to him. All he wanted was to sit here and be angry and mad and throw his tantrum, and one minute with Steve and he’s already melting into something else. 

“I know,” Steve says. “You tell me that every day. It’s okay. I love you enough for both of us.”

Moving now, slowly, Bucky picks himself up just enough so that he can crawl into Steve’s lap. There, Steve pets him and hugs him and lifts him up enough to kiss the top of his head. He just holds him close and never even asks what’s wrong. 

“Steve,” Bucky whispers after a few minutes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Steve murmurs. “I knew what I was getting myself into.” 

He starts to move himself and now that’s the very last thing Bucky wants. Bucky tightens his grip around him and whimpers. 

“It’s okay, babe,” Steve says. “I just wanna move under the blankets. Let’s not be cold, okay?”

Bucky sits up and wipes at his eyes even though there’s really nothing there for him to be wiping at. He nods and while Steve stands to pull the covers back, Bucky crawls over there to get under them. He knows he’s being a baby and probably super childish, but he holds his arms out for Steve. Wants him to hurry up and get into bed with him. Steve chuckles. 

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” 

Steve gets into bed and then scoots closer to Bucky. He doesn’t automatically do it, but he does open his arms out for him. An invitation to fall into them if Bucky wants to. Now that Steve’s effectively killed his bad mood the last thing Bucky wants is to be alone. He fits himself into Steve’s embrace, snuggling into his side. Bucky just breathes him in. That warmth. That life. That positivity. Steve is his sunshine. There to shine over him on his darkest days. 

Steve once said that Bucky was his winter. At first, Bucky was insulted. He hadn’t understood what he’d meant by that and it could’t’ve been anything good.

“If I’m really that bad why do you want to marry me?” he’d asked. “Don’t I _ever_ make you happy?”

“What?” Steve shook his head. “Of course you do. Bucky, you make me happier than anyone in the world.”

“Well, then…” Bucky sat down at the corner of the bed. Picked at his fingers. Confused. “How can I be winter? What good is that?”

“Oh. Oh, baby, no, I didn’t…” There’d been a little laugh in the back of his throat as he came to sit beside him. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Steve gathered Bucky’s hands in his. “I mean… you’re the one that reminds me not to hold the weight of the world on my shoulders. You remind me that it’s okay to start over when I need to. You bring me back to life, Bucky.” 

When Steve said it that way, he made winter sound beautiful. 

That’s also what Steve does for Bucky. All the time. Every day. 

Bucky doesn’t know how long they’re laying there for, but when he opens his eyes again, it’s dark and Steve is no longer in the bed. He sits up and stretches. Rubs his eyes and looks around the room. 

“Steve?”

“Hang on, babe.” Steve sounds like he farther away than the living room. The kitchen maybe. “Hey. How was your nap?”

Yawning, Bucky shrugs and keeps rubbing at his eyes. Until Steve says that, he didn’t even realize that that’s what happened. 

“Good,” he says. “I guess. Where’d you go?”

“To start dinner.” Steve sits on the bed and cups Bucky’s cheek. “I thought maybe soup tonight?” He taps Bucky’s stomach. “Warm my man’s belly.” 

Though Bucky snorts at Steve’s comment and gesture, his suggestion does actually sound really good. Bucky smiles and nods and starts to get out of bed. Only Steve stops him. 

“What’re you--”

“Stay in bed,” Steve says. “We can eat in here.”

Bucky, blanket bunched between his hands, nods. “Okay.”

Steve leans over to press a kiss to the side of his head before pushing off the bed and telling him it won’t take him much longer to have dinner ready. To just rest while he cooks.

While Steve does that, Bucky takes the time to do what he set out to do coming in here and actually gets changed. He puts on a pair of sweats and one of Steve’s t-shirts. Two sizes too big for him and super comfy. 

“Well, help yourself,” Steve says when he comes back in with their dinner a little while later. 

He’s already brought in a snack tray to hold their serving bowl filled with soup and whatever other little essentials are needed. They keep two lap trays in the bedroom for occasions like this, though, they’re usually reserved for birthdays and anniversaries and sick days. 

Steve gets the first one out and fills a bowl of soup for Bucky. There’s a can of soda and a glass of ice all ready for him. He brings it over and then gets his own dinner. Bucky waits until Steve is settled next to him before taking the first sip of his soup and when he does, it warms him to his very core. The taste. The temperature. The fact that Steve made it for him. Everything about it is perfect. 

“Steve?” 

“Mhm?”

He’s too busy with soup in his mouth to say any real words but it’s enough to make Bucky chuckle to himself.

“I didn’t mean it.” 

Steve’s eyebrows pull in, but he goes on eating. “What didn’t you mean.”

“What I said before.” 

“Which part?”

“That I hated you.” 

Steve barks a laugh. As though the idea of actually believing something like that is completely absurd. He even nudges Bucky with his shoulder. 

“I know that,” he says. “I think you kinda love me.” 

“I do. So much.” 

Steve flashes him a big, goofy smile. One that makes Bucky want to laugh but he can’t quite muster up anything past a wet chuckle. 

“See?” Steve replies. “I told you.” 

Bucky scoffs. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what happened?” 

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready. And I’ll listen with every drop of my attention. And I’ll swear to go down and knock the hell outta anyone who dared hurt my Bucky and I’ll mean that.” He will, too. Mean it, anyway. “I’ll hug you to my chest and tell you I’m sorry you had a bad day and that every person and thing that made it bad doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll promise to be here at the end of every bad day that you have for as long as I can be. So I can listen and swear and hug you. And wipe away any tears you might have.” Steve reaches over to brush away the tear that crawls down Bucky’s cheek. “And I’ll love you all night long. So when you’re ready, you can start fresh.” 

A whimper, that probably doesn’t belong there, catches in Bucky’s throat as he falls slightly to the side and rests his brow on Steve’s shoulder. Steve cradles the back of his head in his hand. Plays a little with his hair again. One of Bucky’s most favorite things. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” Bucky whispers. 

“I think,” Steve says, “you happened to be a the same bar I was at when I tried to fight three guys on my own for getting to fresh with a lady who wanted nothing to do with them.”

Bucky lets loose a full body laugh. One that replaces warm, but overwhelmed tears with fond memorable ones. He sits up and smiles at his husband.

“I followed you into that alley and wondered if maybe you _liked_ getting hit.”

“Hey,” Steve says. “I had ‘em on the ropes.”

“Sure you did.”

“Besides.” Steve tugs a bit on the shirt Bucky’s wearing. “We both know who likes getting hit.”

Steve wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, pinning his tongue between his teeth. Snorting, Bucky flicks his arm and shakes his head. 

“Jesus, Steve, you’re the worst.” 

“Yeah?”

Bucky glances over again, eyes swimming with adoration for this guy. Probably since the moment he met him. Even following him into that alley. Steve hadn’t picked that fight. Drunk and everything, he’d been trying to defend someone else when no one paid attention or didn’t notice. 

“No,” Bucky murmurs. “Far from it.” 

Smiling, Steve laces their fingers and brings Bucky’s hand up to his lips to kiss his knuckles. Bucky’s not sure how this happened. How between just a nap and dinner, Steve’s managed to make everything that happened today feel totally eclisped by something beautiful and perfect. But he has. Bucky’s almost ready to put this stupid day behind him. There’s just one thing he needs to do.

“I had a really bad day today, Steve.”

Steve nods and puts his spoon down. He looks at Bucky, giving him all his attention just like he promised he would.

“Yeah?” he says. “You wanna talk about it, Buck?”

“Yeah. I do.”

 


End file.
